


Colors And Promises

by a_kiss_inthe_rain



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur has risen, Immortal Merlin, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_kiss_inthe_rain/pseuds/a_kiss_inthe_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been a very long time since Arthur died, and Merlin has wandered far and wide in his wait. When Arthur finally does rise again, the sorcerer couldn't be happier at first but soon the thought comes to him. 'When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lake Avalon

Merlin walked along the road for the millionth time, face drawn down in a sad frown. He had given up his disguise long ago, just being himself; there were so many people that it was impossible for anyone to remember him now. The black haired man looked over the still lake, the last year on his mind. He had found Mordred, Leon, and Gwaine; but, only Gwaine remembered him.  
Merlin had done many things in the thousand years: from building his own home, to painting, to nursing, to helping young magic users. It was now, in the year of 2016, that Merlin was beginning to grow weary of Arthur ever coming back. The sorcerer turned and walked to his small cabin on the coast of Lake Avalon, where the dark living room waited for him. The blue eyed man went to his room, furnished much like the room he had had in Camelot, and went to sleep with a heaviness on his heart.  
A few days went by, with Gwaine visiting him every other day. The Knight was a wonderful person, as he had been in the last life: with a job as security for a night club. It was on a cool, stormy day that the two sat drinking tea together.  
"Y'know, Merlin, I never thought that I would find anyone from the days of Camelot. I was surely surprised when I saw your face in a crowd at the club entrance, and when you remembered me," Gwaine (his current name was Ed) said as he looked out at the gathering storm clouds.  
Merlin nodded as he looked through the window that, frankly, was older than the man next to him. "Indeed, it was wonderful finding you, Gwaine. So far I've seen Leon too, and Mordred, but neither of them seem to remember anything."  
Rain began to spatter against the window, and Gwaine set down his empty mug. "I better be off, is there anything to need from town?"  
Merlin smiled, shaking his head. "You know you don't need to take care of me, I have plenty of money saved up from the years of work I've done."  
"I know, but I worry about my friend," Gwaine said as he pulled the sorcerer into a hug. He still remembered that conversation with Merlin, and how he felt the squeeze of jealousy in his chest that the black haired man hadn't trusted him.  
Merlin returned the embrace, almost reaching out when the other pulled away. He sat and watched as Gwaine went out to his car and drove away, then cast his eyes back over to the lake. He watched as the rain beat down on the gray lake, waters churning angrily as the storm progressed. The porcelain-skinned sorcerer poured himself another mug of tea, eyes still trained on the waters.  
That night was rough for Merlin, as he tossed and turned with the nightmares of Morgana's grinning face as Mordred stabbed Arthur, dragon blade breaking off in the King's- his King's- chest. Sweat ran down Merlin's skin, causing him to stick to the sheets that tangled around him. He yelled out without waking, begging for Arthur to stay with him, begging for him to please don't leave. His face contorted into one of anger, then sadness, then one of a lover who had gone many holidays without the one they belong with. Hands gripped the sheets, fisting them as his eyes flew open and his lungs drew in a loud breath.  
There was someone pounding on his door, a voice pleading for help.  
Merlin got up, carefully pulling on his pajama bottoms before grabbing a sword from the closet. The man padded silently through the house; when he reached the door he opened it only to stop with the door half-open  
In the darkness, and the freezing rain, was a man drenched and tired-looking. Rusted chainmail hung from his body, some of the links no longer existent. A sword, that somehow managed to survive time, hung loosely from his grip. His face turned up, revealing eyes the color of the sky, as soft as the plushest velvet and as hard as a warrior.  
Merlin's eyes widened as he began to reach out, stopping at the last second. "Arthur?" he whispered breathlessly.  
Arthur's lips turned up in a soft smile, the King stepping forward wobbly-like. "It's been a long time, Merlin."


	2. Hearth Fire

Merlin finally let his fingertips brush against rusted armor, trailing a path up to the stubbled jawline of Arthur Pendragon. His royal blue eyes began to fill with tears, tears of relief and joy of being reunited with his King. It was only after assuring himself that the blond was actually there that he pulled Arthur in. "Come in, sit," he said breathily, "I'll start a fire and brew some tea."  
Arthur sat down in a cushioned chair, the one that Gwaine had sat in only hours earlier. He looked around at the simple cabin, baby blue orbs taking in some of the oddities. His hand reached out, seemingly of it's own accord, to brush against some black rectangle that reflected his image. He was in awe of the white metal cabinet that Merlin got a jug of, was that milk?, out of. The King looked around at all that had changed since he had passed.  
Merlin got a kettle on, letting the water boil as he looked at Arthur, resisting the urge to card his fingers through the King's drenched hair. Suddenly he remembered with an exclamation before rushing to the closet, that he had clothes for Arthur. The Warlock sifted through hoodies and coats before finally finding the much-too-large-for-him shirt and jeans. "Here, change into these," he offered as he handed the bundle of clothes to Arthur.  
Arthur looked down at the denim, and the soft cotton shirt, and back up at the raven haired man. "Merlin, you know that I need help out of my armor. And what kind of clothing is this? Certainly not fit for a-"  
"Arthur, times have changed much since you.... since you've been gone. People don't wear what they used to, and they don't act the same way. There's so much more in the world, and so many new, good things, that you'll have to learn," the Sorcerer stated as he unbuckled the King's belt. He undressed the other man in silence, just appreciating his long-missed presence. Merlin dried Arthur with a scratchy towel before dressing him in the faded jeans and red T-shirt. "There, isn't that better?"  
Arthur seemed unsure, but he nodded anyway; after all, it was much better than the wet, rusted armor. He startled at the hissing tea kettle, before Merlin went about pouring them both cups of steaming tea.  
"Do you want milk in yours? It's been a while, and I know tastes cha-"  
"I think plain tea will do," Arthur said before taking one of the warm mugs. He inhaled the pleasant aroma before taking a long gulp of the burning liquid; it did good for the chill that he couldn't seem to shake. He set the mug down on the coffee table as Merlin sat in the chair opposite him.  
The pale man sipped his tea slowly, appreciating the warmth it radiated to his cold hands. He smiled at Arthur, eyes still brimming with tears. "I still can't believe you're back. Gwaine will be glad to hear," he mumbled as he looked out the window. Rain still beat against the glass panes, the wind howling outside. Merlin looked down at himself, noticing that he hadn't bothered to pull on a shirt and was only in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. "I wish I could have been there for you, to help you. I bet you were scared."  
Arthur sighed, reaching out and placing a calloused, yet gentle hand on his servant- his friend's bony shoulder. He noticed just how porcelain-like Merlin's skin was against his own tan. "Merlin, I'm just glad that you're here now. To be honest, it was like I could feel that you were here, waiting. Almost like someone was guiding me. And I certainly wasn't scared, I'm not a girl's petticoat like you," Arthur reassured. He felt his heart tug, the playful banter settling wrong between them; he knew, that this was not a time for jesting. "I've missed you, Merlin, even if I haven't really been here to do it. I'm sure that it's been more painful for you, but I want you to know that I have thought of you."  
Merlin smiled, reaching up to squeeze the comforting hand on his shoulder.  
The fire popped and crackled behind them, radiating a warmth that reached deep within them. The pair sat in silence for hours, sipping tea and watching the storm outside. Arthur looked around the living area of the cabin every now and then, still in wonder of all the strange 'appliances', as Merlin called them. Apparently, the white cabinet was a refrigerator, where cold things were kept to stay cold. When the rain began to slow, the little black rectangle on the table began to buzz, causing Arthur to draw back with a gasp.  
Merlin grabbed the object, and the thing lit up! He swiped his thumb across it and began to read something, and then tapped it with his thumbs over and over, each time hitting a slightly different spot. He hit a final spot on the luminescent item and pressed a button to make it dark again, before setting it in his lap.  
"What is that... that thing?" Arthur asked wearily, hand reaching for his sword, still sharpened and gleaming after all these centuries.  
"This?" Merlin asked, holding the rectangle up again, showing Arthur the reflective part. "This is a cell phone. People use these so that they can talk to each other, by calling or texting. They also use them to look up information, or get on websites."  
Arthur's expression was one of pure amazement, as the Sorcerer continued to explain the 'cell phone' to him.  
When the first rays of the sun began to turn the sky a pearl gray, clouds still hanging heavily, the pair went to bed. Merlin curled into Arthur, hands clutching the King's shirt as though he feared that he would disappear. They slept peacefully, Merlin finally resting easy for the first time since the Battle of Camlann.


	3. Bruises and Contusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's dream is more of a memory of times passed, and pain and love.

Merlin couldn't keep going, carrying his dying King, it felt like it was killing him. He helped Arthur up onto his horse, covering his shaking form with a heavy wool blanket. "Don't worry, Arthur, I'll get you to the Isle of the Blessed. I swear," he whispered, hand resting on the King's sweaty hair.  
They rode for hours, until Arthur couldn't go any longer. Merlin helped him down from the horse, settling him on a bedroll as gently as he could. The Sorcerer went about making dinner until the King stopped him.  
"Merlin, come here," the weakened man asked feebly. When Merlin squatted beside him, asking if he was alright, Arthur grabbed his neckerchief. "Shut up and listen, Merlin. I need to tell you somethi-" Arthur hissed in a painful breath, baring his teeth. "There's something, that I've never told you before."  
"You're not going to say goodbye now," Merlin commanded, navy-blue eyes spilling tears; tears that were hot as they rolled down his cheeks, and onto Arthur's chainmail.  
"No, no. I need to tell you that I," Arthur took another shaky breath, throat gasping, "I love you, Merlin. I love you so much, and I wish I had told you sooner. I wish that I had told you when we had a chance to be together, and I wouldn't tell you now because I don't want to hurt you, but I need you to know. I love you, I love you so much." Arthur was gripping onto Merlin's jacket so hard that his knuckles were white, tears spilling down his paling cheeks.  
Merlin smiled sadly, hands folding over trembling ones. "Does Gwen know?" he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.  
Arthur chuckled, but it was no more than a wheezing. "Of course not, how could I ever tell her that? That she was a distraction from the one love I wanted but couldn't have." His eyes were downcast, a fear gripping his heart that he could have never imagined; a fear worse than that of dying, a fear of rejection.  
Merlin gripped Arthur's jaw gently and tilted his head up, looking deep into eyes that were losing their shine and turning glass. "I love you too, Arthur, I always have. I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you everything sooner, my magic, loving you. I was so scared of making you have to choose, and I didn't want to make you hate me."  
Arthur leaned forward, gathering what little strength he could, and kissed Merlin with as much emotion and vigor as he could. He wanted to say everything that he couldn't, with this kiss. Merlin's lips worked with his, soft and warm and wonderful against his own numb ones. Their hands were roaming all over each other's bodies, trying to memorize each and every plane. Merlin pulled away, tears still spilling down his cheeks and he made quick work of Arthur's trousers, and making skin-to-skin contact with the King. Merlin pumped Arthur's cock gently, eliciting a drawn out moan from the blond.  
Arthur carded his fingers lazily through locks of hair that reminded him of a raven's feathers. He kissed Merlin heatedly, reveling in the warmth that spread to his own cold body, and the feelings that Merlin was causing within him. He whispered sweet, tender things that he had longed to tell the Sorcerer for years, begging for him to make his last days even better than the many days they had had together.  
Merlin swirled his thumb around the head of Arthur's cock, fingers dancing across the warm skin. He wanted to show Arthur just how much he wanted him, to make him understand that he wanted the King more than anything else in all of Albion. It didn't take long before warm strings of cum painted Merlin's fingers. When Arthur reached out to return the action, but Merlin shushed him and sat him back. "Don't, I wanted to do this for you."  
Arthur nodded, tired from everything that had been happening. "I love you, Merlin, don't ever forget that."  
"I love you too, Arthur." Merlin kissed the King again as he fell asleep.

~~~~~

"It's too late, it's too late," Arthur grunted out as Merlin tried to drag him closer to Lake Avalon. He could hear Merlin panting in his efforts, and felt his heart squeeze painfully. They were still as his love tried to catch his breath. "All your magic and you can't save me."  
"You're not going to die," Merlin said, his voice choked from the tightness of his throat.  
"Just, just hold me," Arthur said, gloved hand patting Merlin's own. He looked out, eyes locking onto a piece of dew covered grass, as he tried to gather the energy to get up again.  
"There's something I want to say."  
"You're not going to say goodbye," the Sorcerer grunted, looking back down at Arthur as his eyes began to fill with a dew of their own.  
"No, no. Everything, you've done, I know now," Arthur was gasping for air, with Merlin holding him as tightly as he could. He wanted to stay in those arms forever, to hold Merlin in his own. He continued on, with what he knew he needed to say. "For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you helped me build."  
"You'd have done it without me," Merlin assured him, shaking his head as tears spilled.  
Arthur chuckled, smiling painfully up at Merlin. He looked away from his servant, his friend, his love. "Maybe," he paused, "I want to say something I've never said to you before." His eyes locked with Merlin's again, the color of the sky meeting that the depths of the ocean. They both breathed heavily, neither really wanting to confront it. "Thank you... I love you." Arthur smiled, and for a moment there was no pain in it for either of them, and it was his cocky grin that Merlin had begrudgingly grown to love so much. He reached up with his gloved hand and entwined his fingers into those raven locks, twinkling eyes still on Merlin, and the grin still on his lips.  
Merlin nodded, a ghost of a smile on his own lips. "I love you too, Arthur." What little smile there was died when Arthur's fingers let go and his hand fell back with a sickening thud against Arthur's chest. "Arthur, no," he whispered, patting a cold, cold cheek. "Arthur." He was still shaking Arthur, cradling his head as close as he could. He felt something snap as he yelled, "Arthur!"  
The King's eyes snapped back open, but their twinkle was gone and they were dull, the eyes of a man who was near his end. He saw Merlin smile down at him reassuringly, but he couldn't hold on. His eyes rolled back into his head for the last time, body slack.  
Merlin grunted as he tried to lift Arthur again, his back screaming with pain. Tears were flowing freely from his eyes as he tried, and tried to save his love. "Arthur!" he yelled again, hoping against hope that it would work again. He set Arthur down, laying beside him, with his torso over the King's. A scream tore through his throat, painful as he called for Kilgarrah. He guessed somewhere he knew that there was no hope, that Arthur was gone, really dead, but he still called.  
The dragon landed, eyes somber as he took in the scene of the bawling Warlock, gripping onto the dead King as though he were his only lifeline.

~~~~~

Merlin woke with a start, Arthur shushing him as his fingers carded gently through raven locks. He looked up and saw that he had soaked Arthur's shirt with his tears. "I-I dreamed of when-"  
"I know, but I'm here now," the blond said with a smile as he kissed Merlin gingerly. His lips worked wonders as they chased away all the fears and insecurities, and wrapped Merlin in their warmth and tender love. When Arthur did finally pull away, the Sorcerer smiled feebly. "I love you, Merlin," he whispered gently against those trembling lips.  
Merlin's lips stopped trembling as he kissed Arthur again. "I love you too, Arthur."


	4. Sirens and Headlines

The pair had spent the last week getting into a somewhat normal routine, with Merlin teaching Arthur about technology and everything that had happened since Camelot. Arthur was catching on pretty quick, he could already flick through channels on the TV and use the stove without Merlin having to supervise him (though he was still awful at actually cooking anything). They had even gone to town a couple times, with Gwaine driving them around shops and pubs; Arthur was in constant awe of everything, the neon lights, new alcohols, new clothes, even the foods.  
Merlin was absolutely relishing in every second he spent with Arthur, glad that he was finally back. A thought had buried itself in the back of his mind, though, and words he hadn't heard in a very long time played through his head with every second of silence. 'Arthur is the Once and Future King. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.' Even though the lands were no longer known as Albion, Merlin still knew that Arthur was tied into it just as much as the Sorcerer was to the King himself. He brushed these thoughts off, just focusing on enjoying Arthur's companionship.  
It was another cold, stormy night when the couple sat together eating steaming bowls of stew. Their eyes were trained onto the TV as headlines flashed across the screen. 'President Trump Declares War Against the UK' and 'America Stands Off Against Britain'. On the screen they played a clip of the President of the United States, Donald Trump, declaring that the United Kingdom was an enemy of the United States, and it always had been.  
Merlin's eyes were wide with fear as he gasped, and the puzzle pieces clicked into place. He turned to Arthur, studying the grimness in his eyes and the determined set of his jaw. "A-Arthur," he whispered.  
The blond King turned, a deep sorrow in the downturn of his lips. "Merlin, I'm going to have to do something. I can't sit idly by and let this, this orange freak go to war with my country," he said, tone dead-set. He reached over with a firm hand and clasped Merlin's own lithe one, marveling once more at how pale he truly was.  
"Arthur, I can't lose you again! You don't need to do this, there's other ways to help that aren't fighting!" Merlin felt the burning sting in his eyes that let him know he was about to cry, and he could tell Arthur saw it. His teeth were gritted hard, and he could feel the muscles in his jaw twinging. "We can do something, I know it, but I cant, I can't lose you again."  
Arthur let the subject drop, knowing that Merlin would not listen now. The muscled man ate the rest of his stew, listening to the news anchors speak about the nation's plan. He stood and walked over, placing his bowl in the sink and washing the dish as he thought. Arthur Pendragon knew what he wanted to do, and that was lead an army to defend his nation; but, he also wanted nothing more than to hide in this little cabin with Merlin until everything settled itself.  
A couple days went by and the news only grew darker, with stories of soldiers being slaughtered by the American army and other nations seeking refuge. There were even more stories of families fleeing the UK, afraid for their lives. Gwaine had told them goodbye, as he would be shipped out later this week; his uniform brandished a name tag with bold capital letters. Ed Freelance would be going to serve his country, a young man that had only really begun his life. Pictures of Donald Trump were posted all over the internet, with captions of 'warmonger' and 'heathen', some even as bad as 'demonic scum'. The one news report that really scared both Merlin and Arthur, scared them to the point of Merlin changing the channel to NatGeo, was in big, angry red letters. 'PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP CLAIMS THE THRONE WILL BE HIS,' the words read as a pretty news anchor declared that Trump had already made alliances with Russia and North Korea. The woman had declared that much stranger things had been happening, such as senators who opposed the oompa-loompa being found with self inflicted injuries and odd 'dolls with mud caking them' beneath their beds.  
Both King and Sorcerer knew what this meant, but neither wanted to really say it. Merlin was doing research on Trump, and the people he had contact with. There were hundreds of instances where people went missing, killed themselves, ended up in prison, or worse; and, each situation was tied in with something magical. The raven haired man looked through pictures of Trump, and he seemed perfectly normal (other than the orange skin), but there was something off about his wife, Melania. She always had a sinister, interesting look on her face; and, how is it that a woman from Slovenia managed to marry an American billionaire?  
It was a Tuesday, sun glinting off the lake as the pair sat in a small boat they had paddled out to the middle. They drank a couple beers, hands linked together as they looked out at the crumbling remains of what was once the Isle of the Blessed. Arthur had planned a little picnic for them, packing a few snacks and drinks for them before taking the boat around the lake.  
"Merlin, I know you've been doing research almost nonstop to try to figure out what we can do to stop this, this war," Arthur began as he dug through the pocket on his red-and-white flannel shirt. "I want us to take a break today, and spend some time for us. And I have something I need to ask you."  
Merlin cocked his head, thumb rubbing on the calloused knuckles of Arthur's hand. "Hmm?" he hummed, looking out over the lake. On the other shore, he could faintly make out the city where just the smallest hint of life could be seen.  
Arthur pulled out a ring, one that Merlin was very familiar with. The Pendragon crest stood out proudly on the golden band, and Merlin was surprised to see that the years had not taken a toll on the metal. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and now that times are different I can do that. Merlin, will you marry me?"  
Navy blue orbs widened and became moist with tears of joy. "Oh my god, Arthur, yes," he breathed out. He lurched forward, locking his lips onto the blond's, and kissed him as deeply as they had when Arthur first confessed his love. "Yes, of course I'll marry you, you clotpole."  
Arthur chuckled, and slid the ring onto Merlin's finger, noting how it was a little big and hang loosely. "We'll need to get it resized sometime," he mumbled, smile still in place.  
The couple continued their boat ride, Merlin winding himself around Arthur's torso and burying his face in the King's warm neck. "I love you, Arthur."  
"I love you too, Mer-"  
Sirens blasted through the air, cutting clearly through the cool autumn air from the city. Merlin jolted, looking over towards the brick-and-stone structures, squinting his eyes to get a better look. Arthur leaned forward, mouth agape as his tongue traced his teeth. The siren continued to blare, a voice coming on through an intercom system.  
"ALL CITIZENS, PLEASE GET TO A SAFE BOMB SHELTER. I REPEAT: ALL CITIZENS, PLEASE GET TO A SAFE BOMB SHELTER. LEAVE BELONGINGS AND FIND THE NEAREST BOMB SHELTER." The voice repeated the message a few times, sirens still screaming their warning to all.  
Merlin looked up at Arthur, eyes that had been so happy minutes before now panicked and afraid. "Oh god, Arthur, we have to go."  
Arthur nodded, working his muscles as hard and fast as he could to get the boat to the shore. It felt like hours, lungs burning as he pushed them further and further toward the old Volkswagen Beetle, praying that they would be able to get to safety.  
Finally, they reached where the water was shallow and Arthur grabbed Merlin and bolted to the small vehicle. They clambered in, seeing small dots that could only be assumed as planes dotting the horizon over the city. Merlin punched the gears, speeding down the abandoned road; it was eerie how quiet and empty the road was, it usually bustled with traffic at all hours of the day. The small, silver bug sped through the winding road, Merlin turning abruptly onto a gravel lane that went through the forest.  
"Merlin, what are you doing? The city is the other way!" Arthur yelled, baby blue eyes wide as he looked back over his shoulder.  
"I know that, Arthur, I'm not a dunce. I built a bomb shelter this way back in World War II, so that I could hide away safely," Merlin explained as he parked the Beetle by a small concrete shack that was no bigger than an outhouse. He opened the door to reveal a metal door on the floor, and unlocked it.  
The pair climbed down the metal ladder, Merlin closing and locking the hatch above them. The sorcerer lit a kerosene lantern, lighting up the small bunker effectively. Shelves of rations and supplies lined two of the walls; a toilet was set back into an alcove, with a curtain draped across for privacy. A mattress sat in the middle of the floor, with blankets and pillows set neatly atop it.  
"Okay, we'll be able to stay here until the bombing is over," Merlin whispered, almost afraid that someone would hear them.  
Arthur looked over at his love and smiled, a semblance of his cocky grin on his face. "Merlin, I don't tell you this often, but you're a genius."  
Before the raven haired man could reply, the ground around them began to shake violently, the shelter above rocking, though they couldn't see it. Whistling from the bombs dropping was heard faintly, before explosions loud enough to make their ears ring. Dirt fell from the ceiling, and Arthur could only imagine how many people were dead, and how much damage was done.


	5. Dusty Lungs

The bombings quit finally, and the silence hung heavier in the air than the dust. It had been three days of pretty much nonstop bombs, of the earth shaking, of fearful crying and clutching onto each other. After the bombings had stopped, the pair had waited, breathing in the silence that they had prayed for; their hands found each other's as they stood on trembling legs and walked over to the ladder, Merlin climbing up to see that the land around had been completely annihilated. The trees that still stood were burnt or burning, the concrete shelter was barely standing, and the Volkswagen Beetle a twisted wreckage.  
The couple began walking back to see what had come of their home, terrified of seeing another plane, or finding dead bodies. When Merlin and Arthur finally reached their home, they saw that it was mostly intact; but, the surrounding trees were obliterated. The lake was still crystalline, beautiful as the day they were having their picnic. The dust was heavy in the air, making the sky a sickening brown that reminded Merlin of the Dust Bowl, from when he was traveling in the American Midwest; the wind was whipping sand and dust against them.  
They finally got inside of the home, relieved to see that everything was still alright inside. Merlin saw his phone, and picked it up to see that he had a dozen missed calls and texts from Gwaine. The first four were warning Merlin of the incoming planes and bombs, and the rest were begging for Merlin and Arthur to be alright and get a hold of him when they could.  
Merlin dialed the number and waited, every ring making his heart wrench; he hoped that Gwaine was still alright, and that he wasn't too late to talk to him again. When he thought that he would get the voicemail, it picked up.  
"Merlin? Oh my god, please tell me you guys are alright!" Gwaine's voice came in loudly through the speaker. The sound of gunshots and yelling was in the background.  
"We're fine, are you okay?" Merlin waited, gut twisting when Gwaine didn't respond at first. He thought he could hear someone talking about amputating, and his throat squeezed. "Gwaine, are you okay?"  
"Well, I'm alive, so I'm better off than a lot of the guys here. But," Gwaine paused and a yell could be heard, a yell that sounded eerily like the dark haired rogue. "But, I got hit pretty bad. Only reason I'm able to answer now is because they're talking to me about amputating. My left leg got pretty much torn off by some shrapnel."  
Merlin was frozen, and he turned to Arthur to pass along the news, tears choking him up.  
Arthur held his hand out for the phone, and held it up to his ear. "Gwaine, I'm sorry to hear about what happened. I want to ask if you have plans for when you come home?"  
Arthur listened, Merlin trying to gather what he could. The muscular blond frowned, his eyebrows knitting. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear. They won't even let you come back? That's okay, you can stay with us. I understand, and I'm sure that Merlin will love the company. Of course. Okay, godspeed." Arthur hung up the phone and turned to Merlin. "Gwaine said that they won't let him get his old job back, since he'll only have one leg, and that his landlord kicked him out because 'he doesn't support the war'."  
Merlin gawked, in utter disbelief at what he was hearing. "Okay, of course, of course he can stay here. We'll build on a room for him," Merlin thought outloud. Suddenly he got a vision, not unlike the one he had had on All Hallow's Eve centuries ago, and collapsed onto the wooden floor.  
Arthur managed to keep his head from hitting the floor, holding the Sorcerer close. "Merlin, Merlin honey," he muttered over and over, hoping that he could manage to draw him back with his words.  
Merlin's eyes snapped open again, mystical blue orbs wrought with fear. "Arthur! It's her, she's the one behind the magic! She just- she just unleashed the dorocha, like Morgana had, she's torn the veil!"


	6. Darkness Falls

Merlin was still shaking, his eyes glazed over from the vision. His hands were wrapped around a warm mug of tea that Arthur had made for him, but he didn't drink. The Sorcerer kept seeing the images before his eyes every time he'd blink, the veil tearing and releasing the angry spirits. It was an hour, the tea already cool in his mug, before he said anything. "We need to do something, to fix this mess. I don't know how, other than... than, you know, what we did last time."  
Arthur did remember, he remembered very well. He had been unconscious, but Merlin had told him how Lancelot had smiled and walked into the veil so that they could all be saved. He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully. "I'll sacrifice myself, so that no one needs to die," he whispered.  
Merlin looked at his King, the man he had just got back, and shook his head. "No, Arthur, I won't let you. We'll figure something out, even if it means me sacrificing myself. The world needs you, you're the Once and Future King." Merlin set the mug down and turned so that he was facing Arthur fully, hands now taking tougher ones. "Please, promise me that you won't do that, I need for you to promise."  
Arthur smiled sadly, biting his lip in a way that made Merlin's heart squeeze. "Okay," he finally said, "I won't sacrifice myself. For you, Merlin." Arthur leaned in and kissed his Sorcerer, plush lips dancing with thin, soft pink ones. His hands ventured up and began to rub small circles in collarbones that jutted out in a way that should be illegal.  
Merlin moaned softly, tearing his shirt up over his head and throwing it to the side quicker than he thought possible. His skin was on fire with the way Arthur's hands, calloused, gentle, and warm, worked their way over him expertly. The raven haired man stripped the rest of his clothes, pupils blasting when the blond Adonis did the same; every time was just as magical and tender and beautiful an experience as the first time.  
When their skin touched, neither one could catch their breath. Merlin's long fingers ventured over broad, sculpted planes of muscle; first Arthur's chest, then his shoulders and back, and finally landing on his arse. Arthur shivered at the wonderful sensations, Merlin's cool skin delectable against his own warmth. The two hurried back to the bedroom, neither one wanting to stop touching the other as they went.  
Arthur pushed Merlin back on the bed, kneeling down in front of him and peppering small kisses along the hot skin of Merlin's cock. The King smiled and licked a long strip on the underside, before taking as much as he could; Merlin's fingers twined into the silky blond locks as Arthur bobbed his head and moaned wantonly.  
The Sorcerer was keening, begging for Arthur to take him and fuck him. When Merlin felt like he was about to combust, Arthur pulled off. Eyes the color of the ocean pleaded silently with ones that captured the sky.  
Arthur lubed up his fingers, stretching Merlin with one finger, pumping in and out continuously before adding a second finger. His fingers pumped and scissored, almost pushing Merlin over the edge before drawing back. Arthur slicked up his own cock, teasing his Sorcerer's entrance with the head before sliding in slowly. He stilled, giving his partner time to adjust before grinding into him slowly, ever so slowly.  
Merlin whined, pressing his arse against Arthur and moving his hips in small circles, eliciting grunts from his King. Pallid skin became flushed as Merlin ground against his love, both men panting and moaning sweet nothings to each other. "Arthur, I love you, I love you so much," Merlin panted out.  
"Ungh, I love you too, Mer-Merlin!" Arthur roared as he came, cock throbbing as he emptied inside Merlin. His hand wrapped firmly around Merlin's twitching cock, pumping only twice before the Sorcerer came.  
As Merlin came, his eyes flashed gold and they began to float just inches from the mattress. As he came down from his high, so did they; when the couple was on the bed, panting, Merlin curled into Arthur and inhaled the musky scent of them. He was beginning to doze off, humming a tune he couldn't quite remember, when the screams started.  
The lights flickered, fighting to stay on before giving in and staying dead. Faintly, the screams of thousands of people in the city began to fill their ears. Merlin jumped up, sprinting over to a kerosene lantern and lighting it with his magic. He placed the lamp near Arthur and went throughout the house, lighting other lanterns to fill the small cabin with the warm glow of fire to ward off the impending evil outside.  
Pounding could be heard on the locked door, along with yells begging to be let inside. "For the love of god, Merlin! LET ME IN!" the person on the other side yelled.  
Merlin ran over and unlocked the door deftly, flinging it open to reveal a pale, terrified Gwaine. He couldn't get past how the man all but fell in the door, propped up on crutches and his right leg. The roguish man was panting, hazel eyes wide with fear as he kicked the door shut from his place in a chair.  
"What- how- who brought those things back? Why would anyone do this?" Gwaine gasped out, face twisted in a grimace of pain as his left leg throbbed where it ended right above the knee.  
Arthur came out of the bedroom, fully clothed. "We have to help people. Grab some lanterns, we need to go out and tell them that these things can't go in the light," he ordered, pulling on a pair of brown hiking boots.  
Merlin suddenly realized that he was still completely naked, and went to the room to dress. He came back in dark clothing, his staff in hand. "Okay, but we need to be prepared first. The Dorocha won't go near light, that's true, but they will try their hardest to get rid of any light so that they can hunt, kill. I know, I remember Lancelot and I almost got caught by them." The Sorcerer gathered candles, gave each man a lantern, then stopped. "Gwaine, I think it would be best if you stayed here until daylight."  
The dark haired man glowered, crossing his arms. "I'm not useless, Merlin, I'm going to help those people. So many have been killed already. I didn't know what to do, I just knew I needed to get here as fast as I could. It's not like I ever bought any candles for the pad, I'm not that kinda lad. But I'll be damned if I sit here, waiting while you two get all the glory," he answered with a cheeky grin.  
Arthur nodded, handing him one of the lanterns before grabbing up Excalibur. "Okay, We'll need to make some torches to use against them. Let's head out and stop these things."


	7. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that I have not updated lately, hopefully I will be writing more, now that life seems to be a little more under control.

Merlin felt his throat tighten as he heard the wails and screeches surrounding them, in the small cabin by the lake. He turned to look out the window, face paling when he caught a glimpse of headlights from the road.  
"Okay, we need to get to the city and tell as many people as possible that light keeps the Dorocha away," Arthur said, looking over the table at Gwaine. "But, how are we going to get to the city? The electricity doesn't work, so I dou-"  
"Guys, there's a vehicle approaching," Merlin interjected as he rushed over to the window to look outside. He could see a sleek, silver car pull up to the cabin, with the dome-lights on inside.  
A young man and woman were inside the vehicle, looking at Merlin through the window, both the image of terror and confusion. The woman opened her door, gesturing for Merlin to do the same.  
Merlin did, and the woman sprinted from the car to the cabin, almost leaping inside when the wails of a Dorocha drew closer. Her black hair fell in curtains around her face as she leaned, panting, against the table. The man did the same, running with a slight limp to meet Merlin at the door.  
Merlin felt his heart leap into his chest at the realization of who stood before him. His cobalt eyes widened and he shook the curly-haired man's hand in both welcome and reunion. "Lancelot," he whispered on an exhale.  
The lean man smiled, the same charming gesture from in the days of old. His brown hair stuck out at odd angles, a few locks falling into his face and covering his warm brown eyes. "Well, Merlin, I'm glad to see that we found solace with an old friend." Lancelot looked over the rest of the room, smiling when he saw Arthur. "My Lord, it has been a long time, and I am honored to be in your presence once more."  
Arthur grinned as he walked around the table to greet Leon, bringing the taller man in for an embrace. "As am I, Lancelot," he answered. He looked over at the woman to notice that she was pregnant, now sitting in one of the chairs while she breathed heavily. "And, I presume this is your wife?"  
The woman looked up at Arthur with a blush, shaking her head. "Oh, no," she answered with a chuckle, "This kind man found me trying to hide from those, those whatever-they-are's. He brought me here, saying that he saw lights on and that light was the only thing that could keep these monsters away." She brushed her black hair back, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead.  
Merlin looked back to Lancelot, smile in place. "We are going to be heading into the city to tell the people, so that they can be safe. Now that we know the car will work, that will be just a little bit easier," he explained. The sorcerer walked back to where he had been by the window, a lightness coming to his chest when he saw what looked like the light from fire in the city.  
Gwaine spoke up for the first time in this conversation. "I don't know how much help I'll be. I'm honestly surprised that I was able to live long enough to get inside here," he said with a lopsided grin that held no humor. He rubbed above the knee where his leg used to be, grimacing when he felt fire race under the skin. "I could stay here and protect, what is your name?" The last part he spoke to the female.  
She offered her hand, a charming smile in place. "I'm Barbara McLaughlin, pleased to meet you."  
Gwaine shook her hand and began to introduce himself before changing what he was going to say. "Aren't you a nurse? I believe you did my physical exam before I was deployed?"  
The woman looked at Gwaine closer, her striking green eyes studying him intensely. "I believe so... Freelance, wasn't it?"  
Gwaine nodded and looked back to the rest of the group. "I will stay behind and help to protect Barbara and Lancelot. I'm far more useful here than I would be out there," the last part was said almost shamefully, eyes downcast.  
Lancelot stood straighter. "I will go, I know the in's-and-out's of the city. We can spread word to as many people as we can, and hopefully they'll do the same."  
Merlin nodded, looking out into the darkness to see two cars sitting side-by-side, lights out on both of them.

~~~~~

The trio looked around them to see that many people had already figured out to stay near the light, and knew to keep a close eye on the fire. There were a few people who were hiding inside dark apartments and houses, trembling as they hoped for the best. They got those people gathered up and in as well lit an area as they could, telling them to spread word.  
Lancelot was looking out the passenger side window from the backseat when he saw an almost comical scene (it would have been comical, had it been a different situation) that reminded him of the days of Camelot. The brown eyed man could make out a hulking figure sprinting with two children in their arms, running toward the warm light of the fire three blocks away. "Merlin, over there," Lancelot announced, pointing to the figure.  
Merlin turned the car, headlights landing on a man that stood easily over six feet tall.  
The man looked up at the sudden light, gray eyes alight with fear and hope. He continued to run, the kids bouncing in his arms as they clung to him. The man finally came to a skidding stop in front of the small Volkswagen Beetle, his barrel chest rising and falling heavily as he panted. "I need to get these kids to safety," he yelled over the shrieks of the Dorocha. "I don't know who their parents are, they were hiding behind a dumpster a few blocks away. Please help us."  
Merlin watched as Arthur stepped out and walked up to the giant of a man, taking one of the boys into his arms and walking with him back to the vehicle. "Merlin, we're going to walk in front of the car while you drive. We'll be safe in the light so that we can get over to the fire pit back on Chancery, okay?"  
Merlin nodded, backing the Beetle up so that the pair could get into the roadway.  
The drive to the fire pit felt like the longest drive of Merlin's life; he held his breath every time a wail would rise up, or a ghostly figure soared through the air. When they finally reached the crowd surrounding the fire, Arthur set the kid down and cupped his hands around his face.  
"Elliot's mum! We're looking for Elliot and Charlie's mum!" the blond yelled to the crowd.  
The people murmured, shrugging and turning to look around. A woman sprung up from near the back, pushing her way through the people until she pulled both of her sons into her arms. She thanked Arthur and the musclebound giant before walking back to her spot.  
The first hint of daylight began to stretch across the horizon, causing Lancelot to breathe more easily. The mysterious man got into the backseat beside him, introducing himself as Aaron Maurer.  
"I get the feeling that we know each other," Aaron said as he looked around the cab of the vehicle. "Like we're old frie-" The bulky man gasped as he looked at each person individually. "Merlin. Arthur. Lancelot. I-I remember you. I'm Percival, Knight of Camelot." He laughed, pulling Lancelot into an embrace.  
Merlin smiled, looking at the scene via the rearview mirror. "I'm surprised I haven't come across you earlier, Percival," he said.  
"I'm not. I was born and raised in America, Colorado to be exact. The only reason I'm here is because I was traveling across Europe," Percival explained. He smiled at the sorcerer, but it did not meet his eyes. "Looks like fate is bringing us all together."  
Arthur nodded, his eyes still scanning the streets for stragglers. It seemed that they had gathered up pretty much anyone left. He looked out where a lone person sat near a burning trash barrel, nudging to Merlin for him to stop. The King got out and walked over to the man. "You know it's dangerous to be alone right now," he said as he stood beside the stranger.  
The man looked over, and though he did not look the same, when their eyes met there was recognition. The man's hair had been dyed a rather bright shade of blue, matching his eyes. He looked to be about middle aged, clean shaven, lithe and muscular. But that was not what brought the realization; the light in his eyes was that of a warrior, of someone who had lived long and seen much. Sir Leon stood before Arthur, though neither of them noticed at first.  
Leon saw it before Arthur did, and he gasped as pieces that had seemed lost forever fell into place. Leon knew that he was different, especially because he just never died; he had lived seemingly forever, and always wondered why. Now he remembered having drank from the Cup of Life, and his entire Knighthood. He remembered falling from a cliff when he had tried to die, sick of watching everyone else do so while he lived on. He had hit his head on a rock, the waves crashing against him and pulling him to the shore. Amnesia, the doctors had told him when they found him.  
"Arthur, My Lord," Leon said as he knelt, head bowed.  
Arthur noticed that the man before him had a piercing in his lip, as well as a tattoo peeking above the collar of his shirt. "Sir Leon, there is no need for that," he answered as he placed a hand of comfort on his shoulder.  
The two turned and walked back to the vehicle in silence, Leon cramming into the back with Lancelot and Percival. "Sir Lancelot, Sir Percival, it's good to see you again," he said with a smile. "It seems that the Fates have brought us together once more."  
The drive back to the cabin was full of chattering as the five of them caught up. It was when they reached the cabin that they were silent, the shrieks of a woman filling the air.


End file.
